


Olympic Tryouts (part 21)

by jennamacaroni



Series: Olympic Tryouts [21]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 03:29:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2453063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennamacaroni/pseuds/jennamacaroni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana and Brittany have been rivals in the college hockey world for the past four years.  now they’re both at Olympic tryouts to play on the same team and Boston and Minnesota just don’t get along, okay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Olympic Tryouts (part 21)

**Author's Note:**

> it’s been a busy last few weeks with a birthday and a music festival and friend in town and weekend in vegas but finally we have a new part! thanks for all the messages, reviews, prods on updates, all of it. it still blows my mind people read this and want to flail with me about it.
> 
> also i really don't think i'm doing this whole AO3 thing right, so my apologies if the story is hard to navigate or anything like that. both this and ff.net are like alien worlds to me... come find me on tumblr instead :D

By the time the plane touches down in Denver, all the bags are loaded onto the team bus and they make the hour drive back to Colorado Springs, it’s nearly three in the morning and everyone is dead on their feet with exhaustion. Miraculously, Coach Taylor gives them Monday off from practice, meaning the team has all of Sunday and Monday free.

When Santana makes it back to her room, she throws down her luggage and collapses into bed in a heap, not even bothering to pull off her shoes before closing her eyes and falling asleep with all the lights on and the door wide open.

_____

Santana awakes to someone scratching her head. She leans into it like a pleased kitten as she rouses slowly out of sleep, smirking and sighing happily, her eyes still closed.

“You should take out your contacts, Boss.” Brittany.

Santana cracks open the eye not pressed into her pillow and squints against the bright fluorescent lights of their room, past Brittany perched on the edge of the bed and to the clock on the bedside table. 3:55 am.

“And like, maybe take off your shoes too, you’re tracking mud all over your sheets.” Brittany laughs at the whiny groan that transforms into a hiss as Santana throws an arm over her face to block out the light.

“Here. You don’t even have to get up.” Brittany nudges Santana softly and offers her the bottle of contact solution and lens case she’d been holding. As Santana removes both lenses, Brittany reaches to tug loose both shoelaces and peels the sneakers and socks from Santana’s feet, tossing them into the corner of the room. “Stinky feet,” she teases, tickling one playfully before crossing the room to flick off the light as Santana burrows under the covers. She senses Brittany hesitate in the middle of the room, even though she can only see the dull edges of her silhouette.

“Get over here,” Santana orders, patting the bed. Brittany exhales a ghost of a chuckle before climbing over Santana, tucking into the sheets and wrapping both arms around her tightly.

“You’re the perfect size, little spoon.” Brittany’s breath tickles the back of Santana’s ear and she shivers.

“Cold?”

“Ha, no, not quite,” Santana laughs, pulling one of Brittany’s hands to her face to press a kiss to her knuckles.

“Glad you managed to turn things around today, Butthead. My shoulders were starting to hurt from carrying the whole damn team on my back,” Brittany teases, nipping at Santana’s ear.

“Oh shut up,” Santana counters, rolling around so they’re face-to-face. “Guess it’s a good thing I showed up to shoulder that burden from you, huh?” Santana teases, only just able to make out the twinkling blue of Brittany’s eyes. She takes a few long moments to stare before kissing her.

When they’re both breathless, Brittany let’s out a long sigh.

“What is it?” Santana whispers, tucking a long strand of hair behind Brittany’s ear and laying a palm along the plane of her cheek. Their faces are so close Santana’s nearly cross-eyed.

“It’s just that I’m really happy,” Brittany whispers, pressing another lazy kiss to Santana’s lips. “But also really sleepy.” As if on cue, she lets out a long yawn and Santana revels in the way her eyes press tightly together and whole upper body tenses up tightly.

“Well it is practically sunrise, Butthead. Let’s go to sleep.”

Brittany responds by kissing her one last time. Santana tucks herself into the hollow where Brittany’s collarbone meets her neck and they fall asleep just as the first shades of light blue bleed into the night sky, tangled up in each other.

_____

Santana wakes up to Brittany snoring directly into her right eardrum. The crappy dorm window shades are doing a rotten job of keeping out the late morning sun but Santana guesses it’s much later than they normally get to sleep in.

After a few minutes of bliss lying pressed against Brittany, her stomach grumbles loudly so she slides out of the bed as carefully as possible. Brittany mumbles incoherently before turning over, still asleep. Santana can’t help but press a kiss to her shoulder before stealing from the room.

_____

There are a few teammates scattered amongst the summer school students in the dining hall as Santana makes her way to breakfast. She arrives just in time before the staff starts the transition to lunch fare and manages to snag the last of the waffle batter by cutting off a few unsuspecting losers who are too busy staring at their phones. _You snooze you lose_ , Santana thinks, as she pours the batter evenly along the waffle iron. While the waffle cooks, she flags down one of the cafeteria workers.

“Excuse me, do you guys have any chocolate chips?”

The woman laughs and nods, disappearing into the back room and returning with a small plastic cup full.

“Thanks,” Santana smiles, plucking a perfectly golden-browned waffle from the mold and replacing it with more batter, this time sprinkling in the chocolate chips.

“Two waffles and whole plate of sausage and eggs? Someone is hungry this morning.”

Santana cringes when she recognizes the nasally voice. Rachel.

“I’m bringing some back for Brittany, hobbit, what’s it to you?”

“She didn’t want to come make it for herself? I didn’t see her with you when you came in.” Santana knows Rachel is just being curious, but it quickens her heart just the same, as if she thought Rachel were implying something entirely different than an innocent breakfast.

“She’s still sleeping,” Santana says shortly, tapping her foot anxiously while the waffle continues to cook.

“Well, that’s very sweet of you, Santana. To be honest, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Can it, Berry. What are you up to today, anyways?” Santana asks, changing the subject as quickly as possible. _Subtle_.

“Well, I was asking around if anyone would like to have an Audrey Hepburn movie marathon and bedazzling party, but so far I haven’t found any takers. I even offered to make my infamous vegan queso, but everyone seems otherwise occupied.” Rachel looks downtrodden and Santana has to stop herself mid-eye roll, struggling to find a her own excuse before spotting a familiar messy mop of short, blonde hair dumping a truckload of Frosted Flakes into a shiny red bowl.

“Quinn!” Santana practically shrieks across the room. Quinn startles in surprise but nods and makes her way groggily in their direction. She’s still in her slippers and bathrobe and her hair is wildly astray.

“Pool today. One o’clock. And bring your water bottle, we’re smuggling in booze,” Quinn orders in her best no-nonsense tone, not even waiting for a response as she turns on a heel and pushes through the swinging double doors.

“Well, it _is_ perfect weather for a day at the pool,” Rachel sing songs as she skips away, her previous melancholy evaporated like the steam from the waffle iron.

“Sugar, your waffles are burning.”

“FUCK.”

_____

Santana struggles to maneuver the key into the lock of her dorm room while balancing the full tray of food, coffees and towering cups of ice water in her other hand. Just as the tray is tipping dangerously to one side, Brittany swings open the door, a toothbrush poking between her toothy grin.

“Hey-a, whatcha’ got there?” she asks, her mouth brimming with toothpaste suds.

“I got breakfast,” Santana answers, setting the tray down on her bed and pulling out the two folding TV tray tables from under the bed and setting them up in front of Brittany’s bed.

“You brought me breeeeeakfast in beeeeeed?” Brittany singsongs, pirouetting back through the open door and singing all down the hallway to the bathroom. By the time she’s back in the room, Santana has the food divided and the silverware set and she catches Brittany leaning up against the doorframe watching her adoringly.

“ _What_? It’s not that big of a deal, get a hold of yourself,” Santana says dismissively, beckoning her over.

Brittany takes her place on the bed and wraps both arms around Santana’s shoulders, squeezing her as tight as she can. “Um, Britt?” Santana sputters. “You’re cutting off my oxygen supply.”

“Oops. Sorry. It’s just I can’t help but squish you because big, bad Santana Lopez is actually a huge gooey mush puddle,” she teases, her fingers dancing along Santana’s ribs and tickling her while she squirms in vain to get away.

“Am not,” she counters stubbornly, swatting at Brittany’s hands before pinning them both down and pushing her completely backwards and topping her. “Now stop making fun of me and eat the damn breakfast I got for you.”

Brittany’s eyes dilate before craning her neck forward for a kiss but Santana pulls just far enough away to duck away from it.

“No fair,” Brittany pouts, her bottom lip pushed out in a wicked sad puppy face.

“Hey, no frowns, I made you a chocolate chip waf-”

“WHAT?!” Brittany yelps, throwing Santana off recklessly and dumping the whole ramekin of syrup onto the plate.

“You’re welcome,” says Santana smugly, clasping both hands around a warm mug of coffee and watching Brittany ravenously shovel food into her mouth. “Oh and Quinn wants to go to the pool later, you in?”

“Will you be in nothing but a skimpy bikini?” Brittany asks with a mouthful of waffle.

“Oh, you don’t even know,” Santana breathes, licking a finger seductively and swiping melted chocolate from the corner of Brittany’s mouth before popping the finger in between her own lips to lick it off. That got her attention.

“Then you _know_ I’m in,” Brittany answers with hooded eyes, before grabbing Santana by the front of the shirt and pulling her in for a chocolate-y kiss.


End file.
